The River : Meghamati
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A hilly river divides my village in two halves,
And the only link is a bridge, old,rustic, ancient,
The relations,emotions,love,hatred among the people,
Are woven with this lifeline-all past and present.
Rainfall on mountains quickly floods the river,
Old, round shouldered bridge sinks under the flow,
Slit and mud captures widespread land on both sides,
Every year, my village faces this destruction and blow.
Huts float on the river, crops are often washed away,
Woods,logs,bushes, even pet animals are floating on top,
All running with the current,moving away and away,
The poor farmer on the bank, fighting for life- dead stop.
And one morning ,sun-rays start dancing on calm water,
Day starts smoothly, slipping on the hilly, naughty torrent,
River again becomes lean and thin, after her horrible anger,
Some traces of ruin and catastrophe, but still looking descent.
Silent old bridge, takes a sigh of relief and starts breathing,
Schoolboys with bags on their back, throw stones below,
Farmers cross the bridge with a heavy heart, towards fields,
Cattle float on the river surface, their heads high and low.
Faith,family, relation- all that is the symbol of our being,
is this naughty, mischievous,lovely river, the part of our life,
We have worshiped Her as Goddess,since long, long past,
In every walk of our life- in harmony, merriment, and strife.
This dancing river is eternal thread, linking me to the mountain,
I have spent childhood here,played,enjoyed, grew-up on her sand,
She reflects myself before me , when I am here, far and far away,
My beloved river-Meghamati; be , before my eyes, till the end.
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= keshav dubey=
12-04-24
keshavdubey.com
